The Prank
by adromir
Summary: The Barn is being besieged by a series of pranks, which are mainly harmless...until the unknown prankster eventually crosses the line. Sam whumps...sort of.


**Hello, guys. I'm back. **_**Again**_**. **

**Remember the interview I needed to attend recently? Guess what? I aced it. The coveted post is now mine. Muahahaha…**

**Anyway, here's the fic that I've promised earlier. The main purpose of this story is to give Sam some whumps, just not the type of whumps that most of you are expecting though. You'll see what I mean. This fic contains spoilers from the finale of the final season. Sergeant Parker is still recuperating after the shooting and Jules is due to deliver any day now. **

**Read on, my fellow Flashpoint lovers. ;)**

**Summary: The Barn is being besieged by a series of pranks, which are mainly harmless...until the unknown prankster eventually crosses the line.**

* * *

"Damn it!" Mike 'Spike' Scarlatti cursed out loud. He leapt off his exercise bike to glare at the broken chain. "The Prankster strikes again!"

Sergeant Ed Lane paused during sit-ups to ask, "What makes you so sure it's the Prankster's work? Maybe the bike itself is overdue for some repairs."

"Yeah, Spike. The bike has stood there forever, even before the day I joined in," added Sam from where he was attacking the punching bag. "And with over ten different persons riding it every day, I'm not surprised it finally breaks down, especially when _you _have been acting like a Lance Armstrong wannabe with it."

"Who says I want to be Lance Armstrong?" Spike glared back. "Come on, guys. Look at this. Somebody has clearly unscrewed these two bolts. This does not happen by accident."

The rest of Team One dropped their workout routine to gather around the fuming tech wizard. They inspected the exercise bike more closely.

"You're right," Leah grudgingly said. "This is deliberate."

"I told you so." Spike rose to his feet, still pissed. "When I catch that Prankster, I'll wring his stupid neck!"

"But we still don't know who the guy is. Could be any one of us," Wes Turner interjected. Initially from Team Five, he was recently seconded into Team One to cover for Jules who just started her maternity leave. She was due to deliver within the week.

It was a good thing that Jules had not been to the Barn for the last few days. Only yesterday, Troy from Team Four had a slight mishap in the briefing room. The chair he was sitting on suddenly wobbled out of balance, toppling him backwards onto the floor. Upon inspection they learned that the wheels of the chair had been tampered with. Except for a bruised pride, Troy had escaped the incident without injuries. But if Jules in her advanced condition had been the one sitting there, she could be in serious trouble, even more so the unborn baby.

Yesterday's prank was not the first. In fact, this had been going on for a couple of weeks. The SRUs wasn't sure how it all began but they had to admit, the pranks were actually quite funny. A puddle of water in the driver's seat of one of the trucks, the exploding shaving cream in the locker, a rubber snake in the ladies locker room, missing towels from the shower stalls, among others. Generally speaking, the pranks were harmless and everyone at the Barn had had a good laugh over them.

Then the pranks occurred a lot more frequent to the point of annoying. When asked, no one confessed to be the culprit, not even when Commander Holleran threatened to launch a domestic enquiry throughout the headquarters. The deputy chief had a valid reason to do so. Someone had released the air from the tires of his assigned vehicle, all _four _of them.

"Just watch me," Spike was saying, looking determined. "I'm gonna investigate and discover who the Prankster is, right after I finish my workout."

He pushed Sam from the punching bag. "Go away, buddy. It's now my turn to let out some steam."

"Hey! I'm not done yet," Sam protested.

"Sam, we understand you're real nervous about becoming a new Daddy," Ed pointed out, "But that doesn't mean you can hog the punching bag all day. Share it with Spike."

"But it's not my fault he broke his toy," replied Sam with a slight pout.

"I didn't break it. The Prankster did," Spike shot back. "And it's not a toy!"

Sam threw his hands in the air. "Okay, fine. You can have the punching bag. I need to step into the sauna anyway. Who wanna join me?"

"To sweat more when I'm already sweating buckets?" Wes said, resuming his run on the treadmill. "No, thanks."

Ed shook his head with a chuckle. "You know I hate saunas, Samo."

"How about you, Leah?"

She smirked. "Oh, Sam, I'm so flattered you ask. But I have to decline. Jules would shoot _your _ass if she caught us together only in our towels."

As the others roared with laughter, Sam rolled his eyes. "Right. Forget I ask."

Leaving his teammates to their mirth, Sam headed for the locker room. He stripped completely before wrapping a towel around his waist. With another towel slung around his neck, he grabbed a bottled water and walked through the shower hall toward the sauna at the back.

Hot misty air billowed out and condensed on his face as Sam pulled open the door and stepped inside. The small room that could sit six people at one time was empty. Thin clouds of steam hissed and swirled up towards the low ceiling. He used a ladle to pour some water onto the hot stones to work up more steam. Planning to stay in there for maximum fifteen minutes, he lay fully on his back on the wooden pine bench and closed his eyes, covering his face against the cloying heat with the extra towel.

Without his watch, Sam measured the time by singing some songs inside his head. Each song would take about three minutes. After finishing the fifth song, he decided he had sweated enough for one day. He left the bench to get under the shower.

To his shock, however, the door wouldn't open. He pushed again, and still it didn't budge. Stupefied, he stared hard at the thick panel of wood. There wasn't a locking mechanism whatsoever.

_So how can it be stuck? _

Not giving up, Sam shoved with all his might several more times. When that didn't work, he began to repeatedly slam his shoulder against it. Apart from giving himself some bruises, nothing changed. The door remained stuck.

"Shit."

Panting now, and not just from the exertion but also from the heat, Sam blinked against the steam as he frantically figured out what to do next. Whatever plan it might be, he needed to carry it out fast because he had not much time. The high temperature was getting more oppressive the longer he stayed. Even then he was growing increasingly lightheaded.

_Is it my imagination or is it really getting hotter in here?_

Sam staggered towards the closest wall, frowning as he studied the thermostat. Much to his surprise, the temperature was at 210 °F, which was not right. It had been pre-set at 190°F at the max. This was too high. Besides, he had been in the room for nearly twenty minutes, and that was dangerous enough. He must get out immediately!

Desperate time bred desperate measures. Though it was a massive blow to his pride, Sam banged repeatedly against the door and started yelling, "Help! Is anyone out there? I'm stuck in here! Help me!"

He continued to bang and kick, creating a lot of racket, but no one came. Terribly dizzy, he grabbed the bottled water and drank hungrily to replace the lost fluid. He dumped some of it over his entire body to cool himself down, though he knew it wouldn't do much good if he remained trapped inside the hot box even a minute longer.

"Let me out of here!" again he cried out, thumping his fists against the hard wood, over and over. "Can anyone hear me? Get me out now!"

The severe heat exhaustion swiftly sent him into a fatigued state. Black spots marred his vision as his knees buckled and he slid to the floor. Close to passing out, he kept pounding on the door until he had no strength left.

"Somebody...help me…"

* * *

"Feel better now, Spike?" Ed clapped his teammate on the back as they entered the locker room.

Spike scowled. "No. Not until I get that guy who sabotaged the bike."

"Why look at me as if I'm the one who did it?"

"I don't know. Was it _you_?"

Ed pretended to look hurt. "Buddy, why would I harm that bike? I love that ancient thing as much as you do."

Behind them, Wes scoffed. "Maybe it's time we replace it with a new one. Why don't you put in a request, Spike? I'm sure the Commander would gladly give his approval."

But Spike was no longer listening. He looked around him, puzzled. "Where's Sam?"

"He might still be in the shower." Ed shrugged, peeling off his sweat-stained t-shirt. "For a badass, he showers like a girl, long and leisurely."

"You mean, you've watched him at it?"

Grinning, Ed grabbed a towel and walked towards the shower hall. "A gentleman never gives up his secret, Wes."

"Pervert," Spike jokingly said.

Ed just laughed and stepped into a shower stall. He was in the act of untying the ties of his sweat pants when he thought of something. Frowning, he poked his head out. "Sam?"

No response to the call.

Spike appeared then. "Sam's not here?"

Ed shook his head. "No one's around. Maybe Sam is already done a while ago."

"That fast?" Spike wasn't convinced. "What is he? Superman?"

"Um…guys," Wes suddenly spoke. "What is that thing doing there?"

Swiveling, Ed and Spike looked at the direction he was pointing. It was the entrance to the sauna. The wooden pole of a floor mop had been poked through the steel door handle, with the other end jammed into a niche in the wall. A simple yet effective bolt to prevent the door from opening by the occupants inside.

"Holy f—!"

With a curse, Ed took off at a run, Spike and Wes only a step behind him. They hurriedly yanked out the pole before pulling open the door. To their horror, Sam's limp body spilled out and sprawled across the threshold. He didn't appear to be conscious.

"Sam!"

Crouching over their teammate, they made a quick check of his vitals.

"He still breathes but he's hyperthermic," said Spike worriedly, observing the high flush on Sam's skin.

"We need to cool him down now!" Ed dragged the rest of Sam's body out of the stifling hot room. "Wes, call for the EMS."

"On it!"

As the other man ran off to make the call, Spike and Ed lifted Sam into their arms and rushed him to the nearest shower stall. They turned the tap to its coldest temperature, letting the water to cascade heavily around them.

Cradling Sam's head on his lap, Ed cupped water into his hands and repeatedly ran them over his friend's face and through his hair, soaking it through. "Sam? Come on, buddy. Can you hear me? Sam, wake up!"

Removing the towel from Sam's waist, Spike immersed the thick fleece material under the shower and used it to sponge down his friend's torso and legs. A couple other SRU officers had also gathered to give aid. They soaked more towels, running them all over Sam's body to lower his temperature.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sam finally stirred. He fluttered his eyes open with a moan and stared at the alarmed faces surrounding him. "What…the hell…"

"We found you," Ed said, feeling Sam's forehead. It was still too hot to the touch. "Some bastard locked you inside the sauna."

Sam grimaced as everything came flooding back. "…hot…door…couldn't open…"

Spike nodded in sympathy. "It must be awful for you. But you're safe now. Just lie still, okay? Let us do all the work."

Wearily, Sam looked down the entire length of his body. He was buck naked and four different men were rubbing wet towels against his red fevered skin. Despite it all, he managed a wan grin. "How do I look?"

"Like an overcooked lobster," Ed said, deadpan. He noticed the angry scald marks all over his mate's chest. "These must hurt like a bitch."

"I'll live." Grunting, Sam struggled to rise. "Help me up."

"No, lie down. You're in no condition to move yet."

"I'm okay. I just need to—aghhh!" Yowling with pain, Sam visibly stiffened with a sharp jerk.

"What? What is it?" His friends anxiously asked him.

"C…cramps…" Sam hissed, clenching his eyes shut as he rode the pain. "Muscle cramps…left calf…"

"Okay, take it easy." Ed pulled Sam back down, while Spike gently massaged the contracting muscles. Another SRU officer, Tom from Team Three, was instantly at Sam's left foot to help push the toes inward. The pain gradually lessened, but Sam looked as if he was about to pass out again.

"Wes, the EMS?" Ed asked when the other man returned.

"ETA five minutes."

"Don't…need them," said Sam, his voice sounded faint. "I'm fine."

"Shut up, Sam. Guys, let's get him to the sick bay," Ed suggested, throwing a towel across Sam's bare groin to preserve his modesty.

"Listen, I can walk," Sam protested, slapping at his friends' hands when they tried to lift him.

"Dude, you can't even crawl," Spike pointed out. He gathered Sam's lower half into his arms while Ed took the shoulders. With Tim and Wes supporting on each side, they rushed him out of the shower hall towards the sickbay situated next to the men's locker room. By then, the entire Barn was already in an uproar. Having heard of Sam's misfortune in the sauna, they all turned out to see how he was doing.

"Great. I'm a freaking freak show," Sam muttered when he saw all the spectators gazing at him with concern.

Ed chuckled. "You're always special that way, Samo."

Inside the sickbay, Ed and the others gently lay Sam down onto the narrow bed and did their best to make him comfortable. The air-conditioning split unit was turned on at full blast.

Leah walked in with a cloth soaked inside a bowl of ice cubes. She wrung out the cloth and placed the cold compression on Sam's forehead with a teasing remark, "At least I have good reasons to see you in that flimsy towel without worrying about Jules going apeshit on us."

Throwing an arm across his eyes, Sam only managed to groan in response.

"Want me to call and tell her what just happened?"

"No!" Sam's eyes flew back open. "No need to call her, Leah. I don't want her to worry."

"Too late, Sam. Winnie already called Jules. Your lovely wife is already on her way," said Spike, who just returned to the sickbay carrying two bottles of water. He uncapped one before passing it to Sam. "Here, buddy. You need to drink."

"Thanks."

Shortly after, a paramedic appeared. Sam smiled to see the familiar face. "Hey, Steve."

Steve Morgan took one look at the patient and shook his head. "Jeez, Sam. What have you done now?"

"He got into a fight with a stubborn door," Ed jokingly said, but he clearly was not laughing. "How is he doing, Steve? Is it bad?"

The paramedic was poking a digital thermometer into Sam's left ear. Keeping it there until he heard the sound of a beep, Steve then studied the reading with a deep frown. "A hundred and four degrees. Not good at all. He needs hospital."

"No hospital, no need for that," Sam protested. "It's just the heat. It should lessen soon."

"Sam, this is serious."

"I know it is, but I can get the same treatment for it right here."

"The hospital can administer the gastric lavage, a fast and effective method to cool your body."

Sam grimaced. "You want them to pump my stomach? No, thank you."

Wrapping the cuff of a blood-pressure monitor around Sam's upper arm, Steve asked, "How long were you inside?"

"Uh…around thirty minutes, under two hundred degrees."

Steve looked grim. "Hell, Sam. That's too long. You're lucky you didn't bake your brain."

"It _feels_ like it's already half baked. My head is pounding like mad."

"That's to be expected. Any nausea?"

Swallowing hard, Sam closed his eyes and lay back down, utterly drained. "Now that you mention it…"

Turning to the others, Steve said, "His blood pressure has dropped but it's not life threatening. I'm more worried about the hyperthermia. If his temperature stays high, his kidneys and other organs could fail."

Ed squeezed his teammate's shoulder. "Sam?"

"I'll be fine, Boss. Trust me. Just go and find the idiot who did this."

"Okay, Sam. I hear you." Ed then asked Steve, "Can you stay and monitor his status?"

The paramedic nodded with a resigned sigh. "Sure. Like I have a choice. If I leave him like this, Jules would have my head!"

"I'll stay here and help," Leah volunteered.

Assured that Sam was in good capable hands, Ed and the others left the sickbay to change into their uniforms, which they did in record time. Within minutes, Spike was sitting behind the computers at the dispatch station, his fingers a graceful blur over the keyboard.

"There are no CCTVs in the shower hall or the sauna, for obvious reasons. So we can't see which jackass blocked the door with that stupid mop," the tech wizard groused as he pulled up the Barn's security program onto the screen. "_But_ there's a recording of everyone entering and leaving the men's locker room."

"There's Sam going in," Ed pointed out seconds later. "Mark that time. Let's see who shows up next."

With Winnie also looking on, they continued to watch as a number of SRU officers came and left, including the members from Team Two and the janitor. Ed jotted down their names. Spike stopped the video when he, Ed and Wes finally entered the frame.

"Winnie, run those names through the duty roster." Ed passed the crude list to the pretty despatcher. "Crosscheck it with the time the other pranks took place."

They all waited impatiently as she did her things. It didn't take her long. One name appeared in every incident.

"Billy Reed. The day janitor." Ed's glare was ferocious.

"That son of a bitch," Wes hotly said. "So he's the one who put the shaving cream in my locker!"

Spike looked as if he was chewing some nails. "He kills the exercise bike, and he very nearly kills Sam."

"Let's go get him." Ed leapt to his feet and rushed off, followed by his teammates.

"He's on his break now, guys," Winnie called after them as she studied the roster. "He should still be within the perimeter."

"If he hasn't turned tail and run yet," Spike grumbled.

* * *

Billy Reed was not in the break room. They could not find him in the washroom either, or anywhere else inside the building. A handful of SRUs from the other teams had been recruited to hunt for the missing janitor. After nearly half hour of searching, they all got to a disappointing conclusion.

"The jackass! He's fled!" Ed fumed, slapping his palm against the wall.

"He must be getting real scared then," Wes commented. "His latest prank nearly caused a manslaughter."

Spike suggested, "Let's go check at his house—"

"Scratch that, fellas," Troy said as he suddenly appeared. "We've found him. He has been hiding inside the trunk of his car the whole time."

"He _what_?"

"His car won't start, so he chose to hide." Troy shrugged. "Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, I know."

If he wasn't so mad, Ed would have laughed out loud.

Troy led the way to the main garage where Billy sat on the floor with his hands cuffed behind him. Upon seeing Sergeant Ed Lane, the young janitor visibly flinched and trembled anew.

"I…I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone—oof!"

His face thunderous, Ed grabbed Billy around the throat and jerked him to his feet. Without much ceremony, Team One's team leader dragged the janitor along with him all the way to the sickbay, ignoring the poor man's plead for mercy.

Sam literally jumped a foot in the air when Ed burst inside with the subject. Next to the bed, Jules stood holding her husband's hand. The two parents-to-be stared dumbfounded at the intrusion.

"Um…Boss?" Sam asked, "What's going on?"

"Ask him." Ed shoved the janitor forward.

Sam frowned at Billy, exchanged glances with his wife before turning his attention back to Ed. "You mean it's him? _He_ did this to me?"

"I'm real sorry, Sam," the lanky young man whimpered, trembling hard in his coveralls. "It was just a stupid joke."

"A stupid joke?" Livid, Ed grabbed the back of the janitor's shirt and yanked him closer to Sam. "Look! Look at him! He almost died, god damn it! Your prank nearly killed him!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry! I really am," Billy sobbed. "I thought…I thought that he…uh…"

"You thought what?" Spike stepped right into his face. "That's he's superhuman, that he can break down that damned door? Are you _nuts_?"

"But he's so cocky sometimes. I…I just want to scare him, that's all. I thought you guys would hear him scream and let him out."

Jules gasped. "Why you little…"

"Whoa, sweetheart." Sam hastily grabbed Jules' wrist as she made a threatening move towards Billy. "No kicking balls in your current condition."

Ed yanked the janitor back by its collar. Not just because he didn't want Jules to hurt herself, but also because he wanted all the pleasure to hurt the obtuse bastard.

When Ed raised his fist, Billy cowered with a cry, "Please, please, please don't hurt me! I swear, no more pranks."

"Those silly pranks, they were all your handiwork?"

"Yes, yes. Just some silly jokes."

"You tried to kill Sam."

"I did not! Like I said, I was only trying to freak him out. I didn't mean for it to go this far."

"It has gone far enough." Grunting with disgust, Ed pushed Billy back into Troy's care. "He's safer with you. I don't think I can stop myself from breaking his scrawny little neck!"

Troy's smile was a bit mischievous. "Safer with _me_? Let's see about that."

As the subject was dragged out of the room kicking and screaming, Sam shook his head. "I can hardly believe that Billy is the culprit. Since he starts working here six months ago, he has been such a good hardworking kid."

"Yeah, he is so shy and quiet," Leah agreed. "Never expect that he has it in him to do something like this."

"It is usually the quiet ones who turn out with surprises, deadly though it is," said Jules, still seething. Running a hand through Sam's damp hair, she said, "I'm just glad that you'll be okay."

"Is Sam really gonna be okay, Steve?" Ed wanted confirmation from the paramedic who was now packing his things.

"Yeah, he should be fine," Steve grudgingly replied. "His temperature is still above normal but nothing a paracetamol won't cure. Just keep him rehydrated and let him rest. If he shows any deteriorating symptoms within the next twelve hours, rush him to the emerg immediately."

"Will do."

"Thanks, Steve," Sam said. "Don't forget, I have you on speed dial. And you had better answer if I call."

Steve grinned. "Missing me already?"

"It's for when the baby comes, not me!"

Laughing, the paramedic gave them all a jaunty wave and left.

With Jules' assistance, Sam gingerly rose to a sitting position. He was still fatigued, his head throbbing. Yet he was vastly relieved that his condition had improved, so much so that he didn't need to be hospitalized after all.

Looking around at his teammates, he sheepishly asked, "Say, anyone fancy a boiled lobster for dinner? I'm buying."

They all groaned at the bad pun.

**THE END**

* * *

**There. Finished. I got the idea to write this story based on a close friend's personal experience. Pranks and sauna - not a good combination. Trust me.**

**Thank you for reading, everyone! You're awesome! Sorry if the ending seems dumb. It is purely **_**intentional**_**. Hehe…**

**Right now, I'm polishing the next chapter of 'The Truth'. Hopefully I can upload it by this weekend. Before that I need to go shopping for some new wardrobe. Like Natalie Braddock, I have to dress to look the part. LOL!**

**See you later, guys!**

**Adromir ^_^**


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